


i’ll find you when the sun goes black

by gottabewhattomarrowneeds



Series: i’ll give you all the nails you need [2]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Nonbinary Party Poison, Route Guano incident and its effects whoops, contemplations over the rigidness of destiny, not all deserve the fate she’s carved for them, not really sure what this is tbh, spirituality, the Witch thinks about the future and what will come, the others are mentioned - Freeform, the witch cares truly but it’s hard for her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 08:07:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19719619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gottabewhattomarrowneeds/pseuds/gottabewhattomarrowneeds
Summary: The Phoenix Witch listens to all prayers, though She can not always answer them.Party Poison pleas for their brothers, and The Phoenix Witch listens.





	i’ll find you when the sun goes black

**Author's Note:**

> titles from we are the kids from yesterday. i thought the song was fitting.

The coyotes were howling.

They had become a scarcity, after the Helium and Analog Wars, being killed by atomic bombs dropping from the sky along with millions of humans and other wildlife alike. And then, once people breached the city and a desert community began to rise, the coyotes were killed for sources of meat and pelts, for food and for warmth in the cold of the desert nights.

It was a little known fact that the Phoenix Witch had an affinity towards them. Everyone knew of Her flock of crows that would follow in Her wake, that the form She most often assumed was that of a pitch black crow with an intelligence too sharp to be simply a bird. But not many knew of Her pack of coyotes, and how She loved to watch them, would let them guide Her to Her next victim.

They did not howl often; only when a person was lost, when a person was alone. They howled at the darkest hour of night, when a person was completely defenseless, when there was not a sliver of hope left within them.

She had learned their patterns long ago.

She collected from the mailbox, listening to the songs of the coyotes as She picked up envelopes. Letters for the dead. She hopes to deliver them quickly; She did not mind dealing with the dead, but watching over the living was much more lively. When a person is a spirit, they can only do so much to provide for entertainment.

The howling became louder, and She frowned as She glanced through the letters in Her hand. One was from the Girl, dated a week ago. It seemed She had been slacking on Her duties too much to watch the exploits of the living. She’ll try to make it up to the Girl; maybe in the next raid, they’ll find a bag of candy. Hopefully, Fun Ghoul won’t eat Her miracle before the Girl gets to it.

The crunching of sand caught Her attention. She shifted into a crow, fluttering away from the mailbox as quick as She could. She would like to give them privacy if they are choosing to put something in the mailbox.

She watched as the figure grew closer. At first, they were nothing but a black lump in the shadows of the night, but She could easily make out who it was. Their flaming red hair, a beacon even in the inky curtains surrounding them, gave them away.

Party Poison.

They waltzed through the sand, their arms high in the air. She watched them strut towards the mailbox, the darkness shrouding their expression. “Hello zones! It’s ya bitch Party Poison.”

They found the mailbox, and promptly began to climb on top of it. They tucked their knees into their chest, carefully planting their feet and hands on the surface of the top to make sure they didn’t fall. The rusted mailbox squeaked slightly but otherwise made no sound of discontentment to the added weight.

They tilted their head back, staring at the sky. For a moment, they remained silent, and She watched them curiously as they sat as still as a statue, the lights above reflecting in their eyes.

“Hey, Phoenix Witch,” they whispered, soft and hoarse. “It’s been a while.”

They closed their eyes. “I’m sure you know all about the incident at Route Guano.”

She did. It had been a raid that eventually turned into an intense firefight. A swarm of Draculoids just happened to be at the right place at the right time, when Jet Star and the Kobra Kid decided to intercept a supply truck headed towards Battery City.

Kobra Kid and Jet Star turned up missing. The only thing found was Kobra Kid’s helmet, bloodied and cracked.

That was two weeks ago.

“Then I guess you know what I’m gonna pray about.” They rubbed the prayer beads on their wrist, fiddling with the worn string and faded beads. “I know that you have a plan. I’m not questioning or anything, but I can’t help but think this is fucking bullshit. They can’t really be dead, right?”

A pause.

“You’re not malicious, but you’re not exactly all merciful either. Still, I like to think that you’re not heartless. Can you just throw me and Ghoul a bone? Can you give us this one break? I’m just asking for one favour: please, let Jet Star and Kobra Kid be safe.”

They uncurled a bit, letting their legs dangle over the sides of the mailbox. Their eyes were still closed, and their knuckles were turning white as they clenched the top of the mailbox tighter and tighter.

“Please, you can do anything you’d like to me. Whatever fate you have in store for me, whatever destiny you wrote, it won’t mean shit if they aren’t there by my side. I can’t do this without them. I can’t live without them. And I can’t fulfill whatever prophecy you have without them.

“I know you don’t listen to my prayers much...” 

That wasn’t true. She listened every time they prayed, every time they muttered Her name. They were the One, to lead their brothers into a war that neither side will win. They were to become the climax for everything onward, the spark, the gasoline that would create a fire within the zones, a blaze of change.

Their fate was already written, and She could not change it. It was immalleable, it was unchangeable because of how important they were. But She could listen, and She could perform small miracles for them. It was the least She could do, given what She was already about to do- have them slaughtered mercilessly by their worst enemy, die protecting the Saviour, right in front of her eyes.

She listened.

“I don’t blame you, really. Why would you listen to any of us fucking monsters? Cheaters, liars, murderers… and you know my past is littered with blood stains.” A cloud of white floated through the sky as they exhaled. “But fuck, if you won’t do this for me, do it for Fun Ghoul. For the Girl. Don’t take away the Girl’s brothers, don’t take away Ghoul’s friends. If you think I’m a mess, you should see them. If I can’t function without my brothers, Fun Ghoul can’t either.”

They let go of the top of the mailbox, and shifted their legs. They sat on their legs, kneeling, their hands clasped together, a prayer on their lips. “Please, bring them back safely. Protect my brothers. But if you can’t…”

The desert was silent. The howls had ended, the wind had crawled to a stop. The only sound was Party Poison’s soft breath, breaking through the desert’s night like a knife.

“Then give them the rest they deserve.”

Their hair blew in the wind as it picked back up, and they remained in that position for a few more minutes, completely still. She watched over them, holding on to every second they spent unbeknownst in Her presence. Or maybe they did know, unconsciously or consciously, that She was there, and that was why they wandered to the mailbox in the dead of night.

They opened their eyes, and suddenly, their eyes found Her’s. She was a crow, perched on a cactus not too far away, and Party’s attention was focused solely on Her. Did they know?

“I guess you heard everything,” they whispered. They slid off the mailbox, hesitated, and then kissed the top of the box. They turned back to Her, and slowly began to approach. They stopped a few feet away.

It was as if they were the only two beings in the entire desert. She could feel the souls of other dwellers for miles and miles, and yet, Party’s soul managed to nearly drown them out. They always had to be the centre of attention, and now they were the centre of Her’s.

They glanced around before pushing their mask up to their hair. Their true face stared back at Her, and it was at this time that She remembered their age. Sixteen. A child.

A child, leading a rebellion, becoming a symbol for freedom and encapsulating all the ideals of the desert life, good and bad, all things grey. Too young to be a hero, but too stubborn to stop.

A child, who knew how to shoot with deadly accuracy. A child, who has slit the throats of men twice their age. A child, who has blood soaking every inch of their skin, blood that is not theirs, blood of the innocent and guilty alike. A child, violated in ways no one would understand.

A child, who’s entire destiny revolves around their death.

It was silent, except for the howls of coyotes in the far, far distance. They had moved on from their victim, and was now searching for their next one. It seemed Party Poison was not of interest to them. 

She had written their destiny with ink and a crow feather. She had weaved the fibres of their story with Her bare hands. She had designed their creation and ultimate demise. She had forced them to become something they did not want to be, She had molded them into what they are. She will continue to mold them into what they will become. She will continue to push and push, to force them through tragedy after tragedy until they are just what the desert needs. 

And then She will snatch their mask off their corpse, She will guide their soul into the next plane of existence, She will steal everything the Girl loved. She will slay them through the hands of another, not pulling the trigger but instead cocking the gun for another.

She will murder their siblings in succession after them. She will topple them over like dominos. She will destroy their home like blowing down a house of paper cards. 

She will forge them into something unforgettable, something powerful, a flame that will spark a cataclysm. Their destiny can not be changed. They were to be a fire, raging, destroying everyone in their wake long after they die.

They were not dead, and yet She mourned for them so.

It was a terrible future for them. Terrible, horrible, nothing suited for a child. But She can not change what is to come. She can not change their destiny, She can not change who they will Become. The timeline is fragile, no stronger than a butterflies wings. If She changes too much, then the butterfly can not fly, the wings will be tattered with gashes. The future will not bloom into fruition.

A sacrificial lamb, for the sake of humanity.

Atlas, holding up the sky. Icarus, falling to his demise after a simple bout of hubris.

She was not as merciful as She wished to be, after all.

She ruffled Her wings, shifting slightly. Party inched closer still, until the feet that separated them became smaller and smaller.

And then they stood right next to Her, their face barely a foot away from Her.

“Will you carry my message?” They whispered, as if not to spook Her. “Make sure She answers my prayers?”

She cocked Her head. She can not always answer their prayers, but She will anyways listen. Any creature who calls Her name will be listened to, no matter what they wish to ask. 

She will answer their prayers this time.

They smiled. “Thank you.”

They pulled down their mask, covering the features She had carefully carved. Covering scars She had caused, freckles She had spattered, birthmarks She had carefully designed. 

Now they were Party Poison, the leader, the flirt, the Flame. Not the child, insignificant and small in this world.

“Ghoul will throw a fit if he finds that I’m missing.” They turned their back on Her, their shoulders shaking but not from the cold. “He doesn’t need three members of his family to disappear on him.”

They walked. Their footsteps crunched the sand underfoot, and they continued their stride without a glance back. Their hair flickered, flickered, flickered in the darkness until they were swallowed by the ink, until they became extinguished.

They were heading home, and She knew that they would not get lost in the static. It would take hours for them to reach the diner, just as it had taken them hours to reach the mailbox. They would melt into the desert, but they would not become lost.

She pondered, still watching after them, still staring off in the horizon, at the spot they disappeared. She could not defy the pages of destiny. She could not erase the black ink no matter how it faded; it stained too deeply to be rewritten.

But maybe, maybe…

A prayer could be answered, if She added in another page. To deny the inevitable was incompetent, but to prolong…

She stretched Her wings, and took off.

Destiny is set in stone. But not all things are as rigid as they seem.

And everyone deserves a miracle.

Twelves miles away, two bodies began to stir.

**Author's Note:**

> Idk man
> 
> I guess I just rambled


End file.
